


Moments from the Domestic Life of Black Tom Selleck and White Sidney Poitier

by jesshelga



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesshelga/pseuds/jesshelga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes from the decades-spanning, no-doubt-delightful relationship between Raymond Holt and Kevin Cozner, including some much needed origin story on Cheddar, the world's plumpest Corgi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stakeout

Location: well-lit bar in Midtown

Time: 6:57 PM.

Officer on duty: Detective Raymond J. Holt, NYPD, badge number 8520

 

Suspect arrives 3 minutes before discussed meet time of 7:00 PM. Suspect is white male, approximately 22-25 years of age, red-blond hair, blue eyes. Height 6’0-6’1”. Weight 170-175. Looks like Dirk Benedict. Maybe a little like Jameson Parker. 

Suspect’s suit jacket has elbow patches. Repeat: elbow patches. 

Suspect confirms identity as Kevin Cozner, junior researcher for _The New Yorker_ magazine. Suspect’s handshake is firm, confident, and not clammy. Fingernails are well-maintained.

Suspect orders a chardonnay, reiterates wish to be called Kevin, not Mr. Cozner.

Suspect is charming, well-read. Smells like sandalwood.

Eye color of suspect is upgraded to aquamarine.

Approximately 8:13 PM, operation is in jeopardy. Officer has ingested two alcoholic beverages (whiskey and water). No longer able to maintain cover.

Upon being informed that officer on duty is gay, suspect smiles disarmingly.

EOW.


	2. Are the Wuntch Times Really Over for Good?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I imagine a young Raymond Holt would have the occasional brief bout of hubris, much like Jake Peralta.

After removing his coat and hanging up his keys, Ray announced, “Maddie Wuntch made a pass at me.”

Kevin appeared in the kitchen doorway of their apartment, both eyebrows raised as far as his forehead allowed.

After a second or two had passed, he added, “I did not submit to her advances” as he removed his shoes.

A reluctant smile flickered over Kevin’s face before it settled into concern. “Enough goofing around: should you be worried?”

“Why? She’s a professional and a reasonable human being. I can’t imagine why it would warrant any concern.” Confident declaration concluded, Ray kissed his boyfriend, then asked, “What’s for dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope for all our sakes that some day, we get to see a Kevin and Wuntch faceoff.


	3. Cheddar

Agenda for 2011 Weekend Holiday to Vermont:

1) View fall colors (via bicycle tour, weather permitting)  
2) Visit local used bookstores  
3) Attend Sheep & Wool Festival

Not included on the agenda:  
Adopt retired stud Corgi

But somehow here they were, Ray and Kevin, looking at an orange, black, and tan Corgi.

* * *

Kevin knelt down to the Corgi’s level, the better to pat its triangular head perched upon a sausage-plump body.From his vantage point high above both of them, Ray could see the precise part of Kevin’s hair, as well as the vulnerable place where his ginger-colored hair had begun to thin so much the scalp was visible. The Corgi received Kevin’s scratching, petting, and words with a dim indifference Ray found inexplicably galling.

“He appears to be fat. And stupid.”

Kevin looked up and over his shoulder, the precise hyperbola of his eyebrow communicating both displeasure and wounded appeal. The soon-to-be-former owner and breeder of AKC Pembroke Welsh Corgis holding the leash sighed in annoyance (or, far more likely, because she _knew_ the dog was fat and stupid).

After turning back to face the dog, Kevin said, “We’ve been talking about getting a dog for years.”

Ray knew that was true. He didn’t mind talking about owning a dog, so long as it didn’t actually come to fruition. Ray liked their life that was free of dog walks and trips to the pet food store and groomer and discussions about boarding and kenneling when planning weekend trips to Vermont to look at the fall colors.

He glanced at Kevin’s hair again, orderly but also time-worn and unguarded. Closed his eyes. Tried not to heave a sigh of his own, then put his hand on his husband’s shoulder and squeezed.


	4. Lightly Stabbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Kevin and Raymond transitioned from "You're unbelievable" to sharing the "good rocks" with Peralta and Gina in the span of 36 hours or so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 2x16 "The Wednesday Incident"

The aftermath of Peralta’s visit was discouraging to say the least. After kicking Peralta out--it was starting to seem like an annual tradition--Ray discovered that Kevin had disappeared into the guest bedroom. It had been years since he’d handed in his detective shield, but the closed door seemed like an obvious clue that no headway would be made in any discussion or apology that evening. Ray spent the night in his marital bed alone, sleeping fitfully, caught between fury at Peralta and disappointment in himself. (Being angry at Peralta was familiar and comforting; ruminating over Kevin’s wounded, worried look upon hearing he’d been mugged was less gratifying.)

Kevin was gone when Ray awoke the next morning, which made seeing Peralta in the elevator all the more irritating. But the day took a turn for the better thanks to the detective’s undoubted gift for last-minute resolution, and the satisfying arrest of his attacker and would-be mugger gave Raymond new purpose.

Nonetheless, it was daunting to be greeted by the sight of Kevin, formally seated at the dining room table that evening, hands folded neatly in front of him, with all the cool composure of a defense attorney about to dissolve an entire case in a few sentences.

“Hello,” Ray said formally.

The furrow between Kevin’s eyes deepened before he replied in kind. Ray took a seat at the dining room table.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong not to tell you.”

Not prepared for instant capitulation, Kevin’s stern expression faltered. But like many perps Ray had faced over the years in interrogation, the need to stick to a well-prepared narrative meant that a moment or two later, Kevin charged forward with “I don’t like being lied to.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Don’t be sarcastic.”

“I think you’ve known me long enough to know when I’m being sincere and when I’m being sarcastic.”

An eyebrow arch that could rival Lauren Bacall’s was Kevin’s wordless reply.

Ray then delivered a variation of the speech he’d given Peralta earlier in the day, the one about acting foolishly, with more emphasis on not being comfortable lying to the man he loved and less emphasis on how it had impacted the squad.

Eventually, Kevin’s eyebrow relented, but his next statement was a surprise. “I want to see how you’ve managed to hide being stabbed,” Kevin said in his sharpest tone, one he normally reserved for talking about failing grades with students.

Ray knew better than to hesitate. “Let’s go upstairs.”

After they both arrived in their bedroom, Ray removed his jacket, shirt, tie, and undershirt, then  turned so that Kevin could see the large gauze bandage just below his right underarm. His husband strode over confidently, but his coloring was paler than usual, heading towards sickly as he peeled the tape and moved the bandage back.

Kevin inhaled sharply, then quickly but gingerly patted the tape back into place as he shakily exclaimed, “Oh, _Raymond_.”

Ray put a hand on his husband’s shoulder, then touched his cheek gently. “It’s just a scratch.”

Kevin’s forehead knit together. “Don’t be ridiculous. Did you even see a doctor? Of course you didn’t. You should have gone to urgent care. It could get infected or…” His voice faltered, then failed, and he turned his face away for a moment or two, struggling to regain composure.

“I am truly sorry,” Ray repeated, wrapping his arm around the back of Kevin’s neck who, after only a second or two of resistance, returned the embrace fiercely. Ray kissed his husband’s temple, which was reciprocated several times over. Then other articles of clothing were removed.

It was not the exact resolution he had anticipated, but Ray was very satisfied. Very satisfied indeed.

* * *

 

As they were fading off to sleep together later that evening in a comfortable tangle, Ray murmured into the back of Kevin’s neck, “Peralta found the third perp.”

The covers shifted as Kevin placed a hand on Ray’s forearm in a light caress. “Good.” Then “Peralta is an idiot.”

Ray made a noncommittal sound. He focused on Kevin’s even breathing, the gentle pressure of his fingertips on his arm. “Last year, I told him the scar on my ear--the one from piercing my ear with a needle--was from being stabbed.”

Kevin chuckled. “You’re terrible.”

“He really was trying to help… inept as he was, and is, and ever will be.”

It was Kevin’s turn to make a noncommittal sound, which he followed a beat later with, “If you want to thank him, we can give him--and Gina, too--one of your still lifes. I took the two of them to meet Gerald the other day.”

Ray closed his eyes and smiled, knowing how to put the end to a solid close to this particularly thorny case. “Whatever you think is best.”


	5. Young Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue of sorts to 2x17, "Boyle-Linetti Wedding."

From a table located a safe distance from the dance floor, Ray watched with trepidation as Rosa and Marcus participated in what was--at least for Rosa--an uncharacteristic amount of physical affection.

“I hope they plan to spend their post-event hours at Rosa’s apartment,” he proclaimed into his nearly empty highball glass.

Kevin placed a hand on his husband’s back and made a few consoling, supportive circles between Ray’s shoulder blades. “Now, now. You remember what it was like to be young and in love.”

Ray tightened his mouth into a straight line and looked over his shoulder to outline to Kevin how inconvenient this particular variation of young love was, not to mention disruptive in both his home _and_ professional spheres. But when he looked at Kevin’s profile and reflected on those words, he found himself thinking about the portion of their story edited from dinner party anecdotes--namely, the hours following the post-interview drinks spent at Kevin’s cramped apartment. Ray remembered the deliberate way Kevin hung up his jacket, the first few enthusiastic, heated moments against the apartment door. There were also very specific memories involving the loft bed, a daunting exercise of effort and mechanics for one adult man, let alone two.

Sensing Ray’s gaze, Kevin swiveled in his chair and attentively took in Ray’s expression. He then methodically finished the remainder of his wine, set the glass on the table, and reached over to gently remove the pin from Ray’s boutonniere, placing both the pin and flowers next to the empty glass.

In a measured, warm voice, Kevin asked, “Would you care to join me for some fresh air?”

The flicker of mischief at the corner of Ray’s mouth was nearly microscopic as he replied, “Yes. That sounds pleasant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel cheated they weren't seen slow-dancing to "All Out Of Love," if I'm really honest with myself.


End file.
